


Baseball Mom

by soprano193



Category: Castle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5874646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano193/pseuds/soprano193
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver hates everything about Baseball.  His Mom, on the other hand, loves it, and he doesn't know how to tell her that he wants to quit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baseball Mom

It surprised even him, the crack as his wooden baseball bat made contact with the ball.  And in his haze of surprise, he didn't even hear his coach yelling to him, barely registered the noise of the crowd.  “Run, Oliver, run!”  It wasn’t until he saw the outfielder running after the ball that had flown over his head that he realized he better start running.  The bat fell with a thud at his feet, and he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him.  The first baseman was yelling, arms waving over his head, making Oliver try just a little harder, run just a little faster.  As his foot connected with the base, he felt the steady thump of the first baseman’s glove on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.  

“You’re out!”  The ump yelled, dashing all of his hopes with the sound of his voice.  

As he walked back to the dugout, one voice rang clear above all the others.  “Are you kidding?  Everyone knows the tie goes to the runner!  I’ll pay for an eye examination if you need one!”  Oliver smiled as his Mom chewed the man in the blue polo shirt out, his baby sister yelling nonsense along with Mom, copying her frustrated tones.  Mom followed the fence to the dugout, her eyes kinder when she was speaking to him, her hands trailing the chain link fence.  “That was a great hit, Ollipop.  You’ll get it next time.”  She blew him a kiss before picking up Beth and returning to her seat next to his dad, who was grinning and waving, offering two thumbs up before scribbling stats down on the pad of paper in front of him.  

His coach pat him hard on the back, and ruffled his sweaty head when he handed the helmet to the next kid.  “Nice hit there, Castle.  You’ll get ‘em next time.”  

Oliver only offered a quiet “thanks” before sitting on the bench, shoving a handful of sunflower seeds in his mouth.  But everyone’s support fell on deaf ears.  The season was almost over, and this was the only hit he had to show for it.  He didn’t even make it to a base, so it wouldn’t even count as a hit.  

He only started playing to make his Mom happy.  She talked about baseball all the time, even took him to a couple of games.  And she’d tell these stories about watching with Papa, and her face would light up, and it looked like the happiest he’d ever seen her.   So when he came home with that flyer they’d handed out at school, and watched the smile stretch across her face, he thought it would be fun.  

“You’re out!”  The ump’s voice rang out clear for the third time, and the dugout became a flurry of activity as kids searched for their gloves and ran to their places.  And as Oliver made his way out to right field, he realized he didn’t want to do this anymore.  His mother’s whistle from the sidelines gave him butterflies, and a ball went flying over his head.  His teammate rolled his eyes as Oliver chased it, then threw it towards the shortstop, the ball landing about twenty feet short.  “Nice going, Oliver.”  Damien muttered, loud enough only for the people on the field to hear.  His voice wasn’t soft and encouraging like Mom’s.  His voice held the hint of a sneer, the words making Oliver feel sick.  He needed to be done.

The good thing about hitting the ball during the game was that his Dad took them all out for ice cream.  Dad told him he could get a sundae that was as large as his head, that he deserved it, but he couldn’t eat it all.  Mom laughed when dad offered to help, calling him a child while wiping Beth’s face.  But with the bustle and excitement of everyone there, his Dad’s antics and his Mom’s laughter, Beth squealing along, no one seemed to notice how quiet he was being.  No one noticed that he wasn't laughing along, or that he ate less than usual, or that he didn't sing along when his favorite song played loudly in the small parlor.  

He’d always been the quiet one.  Mom told stories about him when he was a baby, and how he slept through the night by the time he was a month old, or how he seemed nervous to talk.  And sometimes, when Mom asked him to do something, and he did it without questioning her, she wondered aloud where he had come from.  It was when Alexis came over that he felt the most at peace.  She was like him, quiet and polite, mostly calm, and the best stealthy laser tag partner.  

When they got home, he hid from his Mom in his room, building a tower as tall as he could out of his Legos and ignoring the laughter from downstairs.  As it got darker, he changed into pajamas and climbed into his bed, his favorite Doctor Who comic book in his hands, and he read it until his Mom tapped lightly on his door.  

“Hey sweetheart.  Big day today!”  Her voice was soft and calming, which only made his butterflies increase their activity.  

“Yeah.”  It was all he managed to get out, unable to even lift his eyes from his comic book to look at his Mom.  

The mattress depressed next to him, and he felt his mother’s fingers on his cheek, gentle and soothing as she tried to make him look at her.  “You seem off, Ol.  Is everything alright?”

He fought back tears as he prepared to answer, his heart beating in his ears.  “No.”

“What’s wrong, Baby?”  

“I can’t tell you.  You’ll be sad.”  He sniffled.

The next thing he knew, her arms were pulling him into her, her hands running through his hair as she rocked him back and forth.  “Well, right now you’re sad, and that’s more important.”  She pressed her lips to his hair, an audible smooch that had him pressing against her more, seeking comfort in her arms.  “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“I hate baseball.”  The words were out of his mouth before he could filter them, and he braced himself for her retort.

He felt her take in a breath.  “Okay.”

“Okay?”  He pushed back and looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time since they’d returned home.   

Her hand brushed his cheek as she smiled, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead.  “Of course it’s okay.  You are your own person, Oliver.  You don’t have to like something just because I do.”  

“I still like watching,” he clarified, his butterflies gone as he watched her face soften, “I still want to go to games with you.  I just don’t want to play anymore.”

Mom nodded, brushing her hair behind her ears as she thought.  “I’m okay with that under one condition.”  She pulled him close and rocked him again, stuff she only did when he wouldn’t like what she was about to say.  “I need you to finish out the season.”  

“Mom!  No!  I don’t want to!”  His voice was high pitched as he pushed away from her, his arms crossing over his chest, anger boiling in his belly where the butterflies used to be.  

“Oliver Jacob Castle, don’t whine, you know better.”  He sighed at that, his arms squeezing tighter, but took a few deep breaths to try and calm down as she spoke.  “You need to learn how to follow through.  And you need to be a good teammate, even though you are planning on leaving.  You have a month left, and I’ll even make you a paper chain if you want one to help count down the days, but you need to finish the season.  Then you can decide what you want to do with all your free time.”

“Fine.”  Except it wasn’t fine.  Why should he be a good teammate when other boys weren’t nice to him?  Why couldn’t he follow through with something he wanted to do?  And what would a paper chain do other than taunt him with the remainder of his sentence on the baseball diamond?  “I’ll help make the paper chain.”  

Mom laughed, pressing a kiss to his head.  “I appreciate it.”  

Oliver didn’t hear her.  Instead, his eyes had fallen on a picture on his wall, of him as a little boy before Beth was born, holding onto Mom’ hands as they skated across the ice at Papa’s cabin.  “Could I play hockey instead?”  

The question surprised him as much as it seemed to surprise her, and he laughed as her eyes grew wide.  But slowly, she began to nod, her eyes finding the same picture he’d been looking at.  “I think I could be a good hockey Mom, don’t you?”  

He chuckled, rolling his eyes at her.  “Well yeah.  You are a pretty great baseball Mom.  How much harder could hockey be?”  

She scrunched up her nose at him, her arms tightening around him again before she pushed herself off the bed, her balance thrown off by the extra weight of his baby brother or sister.  The comic book found its way to his bedside table while Mom turned on the night light near his door.  “I’ll be the best hockey Mom you’ve ever seen.”  She leaned down to kiss him goodnight, and then left, closing the door softly behind her.  

The month went by quicker than he thought it would, and he did his best to put on a happy face for his teammates.  Mom and Dad did a lot of research to find the best hockey league for him to join.  Soon his free time was taken up by skating drills, memorizing plays, and team bonding.  Mom learned the playbook as well as he did, and Dad took him to free skates around the city, so he could work on some of his skills.  And during the games, Mom was the loudest person there yelling at the refs and cheering them on.  And Oliver had never been happier.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Caskett's kid is scared to tell Kate he doesn't want to play baseball anymore.


End file.
